|
|
Post by Grace Ouilet on Jun 15, 2011 18:02:05 GMT -5
I'd done it.
I'd done it!
Two weeks at the Lord Hals estate had served me well; I'd been able to secure a place for Miryelle and I, and though I was just renting it right now, I had fond hopes of being able to purchase it some day. And now I stood, a woman proper in her own house, my toddler at my hip and my other in my stomach, both by different men. One born to a loveless marriage, the other to a marriageless love... but both of my children were a piece of my soul now, and I loved them unconditionally.
So much to do, so much had already been done. My horse was lashed in its little shed out back with a bit of hay I'd been able to secure, and my few possessions had been set up in the little bedroom in back. There was no door, but a well-aged curtain did the trick well enough, and the rest of the little building was dedicated to my future shoppe. Already I had three orders for when my supplies arrived, and for now I was mending small things; dresses, coats, breeches, shirts, even a little doll dress. I had myself, I had my daughter, but more than anything, for the first time in my life, I had pride. Standing now in the doorway of my establishment, I smiled out over the street, Miryelle waving to random passerbys. They laughed and waved back, and nothing but utter contentment filled me. Finally, I was home.
|
|
|
|
Post by Fálki Pórbrandr on Jun 15, 2011 19:29:38 GMT -5
Things between Skaldia and these d'Angeline dogs had gotten even worse in the possible weeks, their forces getting more desperate for blood and our taste for their wealth and women getting even more pronouced. Now there was word that they'd decided to fortify their borders it seemed even more obvious that we should grab what we could, so with a few men I'd snuck inside their lands just as before and come to a pretty little village, peaceful and remote, surrounded by woodlands and some farms, with only one large estate nearby. Perfect for the taking, unlikely to have troops that suddenly sprang on us and wealthy with women, livestock and food.
With a nod to the other men who were accompanying me on this mission, two of my older sons among them, we rode quietly through the wooded areas. This was a mission of stealth more than terror, to prove to the d'Angelines that we could strike anywhere whether they liked it or not. Now to find the prime pieces for the taking.
Then, when we were in sight, we struck. Weapons in hand we rode down on the village, scattering all before us. The men would fall or run, the women and plunder would be ours and we would strike a fierce blow into the heart of these people they'd never forget!
|
|
|
|
Post by Grace Ouilet on Jun 16, 2011 7:52:28 GMT -5
Truth be, I wasn't sure what was going on when the screaming started at the north end of the town. I froze, Miryelle clutched in my arms, as I stepped out a little further to see...
And the mayhem ensued.
People rode break-neck into the village, spilling from the countryside and clad in animal skins. A scream lit through me as I watched, horror-stricken for a moment before sense and realization overtook me. Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods! No longer did I cradle Miryelle, but clutched her now as I darted back in and slapped the door shut, bolting it behind me.
Oh gods, what was I going to do? My baby, my babies, with wild men riding into the village. I'd seen two village men cut down before I'd ducked back inside, and the terror that lit through me was overpowering, overtaking, and I had to force my legs to move for all they wanted to stay still.
"Miryelle," I whispered, kissing her face, her hair as she began crying at my sudden and violently terrified reactions. "Miryelle, my darling, shh, don't cry, shh.."
Abandoning the store front, I carried her into our little back bedroom and crawled under the little bed we shared, putting her against the wall and curling my body up around her. Skaldics, it had to have been Skaldics, who else could it be? Miryelle cried, not understanding, and I cried with her while trying to quiet her down. "Shh darling, shh, we don't want them coming in, please be quiet for Momma, Miryelle..."
And then I did the only thing I could think of, began singing to her softly, a little lullaby that quivered and shook with my fear-wrought voice. It helped some, her wails became a little quieter, and she huddled into me as I curled around her, holding her fast and tight.
|
|
|
|
Post by Fálki Pórbrandr on Jun 16, 2011 9:19:45 GMT -5
Everything was going about as well as expected. My sons were making a good accounting of themselves and I watched them with pride, their blades and axes moving through any opposition as we rode down the main street. The women and children scattered, running into their homes and slamming doors or into the distance, toward what I couldn't have guessed. The opposition was minimal though and I ordered several of the men off of their horses; two would go and get wagons, the others start ransacking whatever they could find, including the women.
The first few houses were immediately taken, the doors broken down easily enough with some force, the people inside screaming, and I rode by them to the next one, then slid from my horse, axes bloody from the body of some man who'd come screaming with a rake of some kind. This door was closed and didn't push open, so I simply broke it open with my shoulder and looked inside. Maybe it was a shop of some kind, there seemed to be a certain order to things,but that wasn't my ultimate concern at this point, and I started going through the different drawers. Thread, needles, fabric, torn gowns- nothing of worth. There was a curtain to one side and I tore it open roughly, stepping into a bedroom.
With the noise outside it was difficult to hear anything but a brief moment of quiet brought the sounds of a soft tune and some whimpers and I walked with heavy steps toward the bed, throwing it aside easily to see a blonde woman curled around something. Some wealth, a child- it was impossible to tell, and with a hard smile I grabbed her by the arm and wrenched her away. She was a light thing and I wasn't concerned with whatever protest she'd put up, but I was sure I'd be able to deal with it. d'Angeline women tended to listen well enough after being reminded a few times who the man was.
|
|
|
|
Post by Grace Ouilet on Jun 16, 2011 10:17:23 GMT -5
The screams intensified as they neared, and I could hear shouts, bellows, the whinnying of horses... I huddled and clutched Miryelle, hoping we would be bypassed, but I couldn't stop her from crying just as much as I couldn't stop myself from it either. I prayed in my head frantically as I sang to her, but when I heard the door to my shoppe burst open, I trembled so hard that I couldn't believe I wasn't rattling off the floor.
Bootsteps, and I kept singing, softer and softer, trying to soothe and quiet her, but it was no use. I screeched when the bed was flung up and away from us, and before I had a chance to so much as turn, he had my arm in his hand and yanked me up.
I lost Miryelle, and she was left on the floor crying as I rebounded into the side of the man who'd taken me. "No, please, please!" I sobbed, pulling at him, hitting his chest with my fist, trying to break away and get back to my child. "Miryelle!"
|
|
|
|
Post by Fálki Pórbrandr on Jun 16, 2011 10:30:22 GMT -5
The woman flailed and there was a child left on the floor, crying fit to drown out almost everything else except the screams of her mother, or at least so I would have assumed. She beat at my chest and shouted and I simply grabbed her other arm, pulled them both together and starting with quick steps toward the door, pulling her with me. I was a father myself and crying children were never a good sign, but this woman represented something far stronger- besides, she likely had a husband or family who would look after the babe once we were gone.
With a muffled order to be quiet I continued to drag her toward the horse I had waiting outside. At this point there wasn't much time to examine my prize but that could come later. My wife needed help around the house, there were always children to care for- and someone extra to warm my bed. Taking a length of leather from my belt I started to bind her hands roughly, careful not to leave them too loose nor tight enough to cut through the flesh. She'd be a good addition to the captives we had so far and from the various shouts I could tell the wagons had been gathered, along with more womenfolk. Tonight there would be good reason to celebrate.
|
|
|
|
Post by Grace Ouilet on Jun 16, 2011 11:42:50 GMT -5
"NO!"
I screamed and sobbed, jerked back away from him hard enough that I thought my wrists might become dislocated. "Miryelle! MIRYELLE!"
Sunlight poured over me, and I continued to fight him, screaming for my daughter, screaming for someone to help her, to get her away, before I turned my attentions back to my captor. "Please monsieur, please! My daughter, my daughter, please! She is alone, let me go, let me go!"
I cried and struggled, but he already had my wrists lashed. I kicked out at him, feeling my heel land against his shin a couple of times, but he was so big.. So big, I wasn't sure if it'd have any affect. Miryelle had yet to come out of the building and I sobbed her name, frantic, my heart racing wildly in my chest.
|
|
|
|
Post by Fálki Pórbrandr on Jun 16, 2011 13:33:32 GMT -5
The woman kept screaming, much as I would have expected, but I couldn't have her rousing whatever guards could be in the next few leagues either, so I shook her roughly once I had her hands bound together and dragged her over to the nearest wagon. Her kicks were hard enough to be felt and she was trying to tug away with strength borne of determination but I was calm, steady and had far greater strength than her to boot. The worst she'd do is leave a bruise or two and wear herself out with all of this screaming and fighting
"Be quiet or I'll make you be quiet," I growled in rough d'Angeline as I picked the frantic woman up and set her into the bottom of the wagon, then grabbed for her legs to tie them together with yet another bit of leather. I didn't know enough of her language to be able to say anything more, and really she didn't require anymore than I'd already said. If she continued with her shrieks I'd slap her until she was silent and there were more than a few in the group who would do far worse.
|
|
|
|
Post by Grace Ouilet on Jun 20, 2011 15:31:16 GMT -5
The more I struggled, the more futile everything seemed. He shook me and drug me, and I panted, wild-eyed, as he picked me up as if I were nothing but a sack of grain and tied my feet together before I could kick him between his legs. I glared, and had I been the type of person, I would have spat in his face, but my thought was solely for my daughter.
"Miryelle! Miryelle!"
That he knew some of my language at least didn't do anything but spur me to beg him to let me go, so I could get my daughter, or at least bring her to me. I begged, tears streaking down my eyes, my words tumbling together in desperation, and I wiggled, trying to get off the wagon myself.
|
|
|
|
Post by Fálki Pórbrandr on Jun 20, 2011 16:15:19 GMT -5
The woman was near hysterics and though she was bound I had no doubt she'd throw herself out of the wagon or try to fight her way free once she was untied, especially if she saw the way from here to our lands. Women defended their children and that was good but I couldn't let her go, nor could I afford another small child in any case. Now she'd grow up with her village, but of course this screaming wreck wouldn't listen to a word of it.
There was only one solution.
With a stern expression I avoided another kick and brought my fist down onto the back of the woman's head with enough force to send her to unconsciousness. She slumped and I pushed her further toward the back of the wagon with the other women who were being placed there, then signaled the driver to start driving away. It was time to be gone and with a clear shout I gathered all of our men back together, then quickly mounted my horse and we were gone. It was a good take, and a good day.
|
|
